


The Mystery Assassin

by rachel_hk1



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Brainy is the new sexy, Fluff, M/M, Murder, Post-Reichenbach, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 19:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachel_hk1/pseuds/rachel_hk1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been 3 weeks since Sherlock's 'death' when John suddenly disappears. Sherlock is forced to come out of hiding to save the one he loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All characters belong to Arthur Conan Doyle & BBC's 'Sherlock'.

Sherlock was sitting in the study quietly scanning his brother’s laptop. It had been three weeks since his ‘death’ and the articles about the ‘fake detective’ continued to surge in popularity. Moriarty had done a brilliant job at burning him within society. However Sherlock was still alive and well. Moriarty, on the other hand, was no longer breathing. How dull.  
Every day Sherlock checked Dr. John H. Watson’s blog however nothing had been posted since the day of Sherlock’s funeral. Sherlock had hoped that John would have figured it out however no one had heard from John except for Mrs. Hudson who only saw him on the occasions that he left the flat to go to the store or go to work. Mycroft had set up surveillance on John to make sure not one of Moriarty’s henchmen got anywhere near 221B without Mycroft knowing the instant it happened.  
However, no matter how much Mycroft tried to convince him, Sherlock knew something was wrong. He watched the recorded video of John at home. John hardly ever ate. He would sit with a cup of tea in his chair and just stare at the empty one in front of him. Sherlock knew that people went through grieving periods but this was not a normal reaction. At least not one he would expect from John Watson. His flat-mate always took care of himself, physically and emotionally but this was something else.  
Sherlock couldn’t help but feel guilt rise up into his throat every time he watched John stare at his empty chair for hours on end. He had done this to him. Even though he knew that he had no choice, he had still done it. Jumping off that roof had saved all of their lives but had killed the one he loved.  
Yes, Sherlock loved John. He’d known it for a long time but, having never experienced it before, he didn’t recognize his emotions. Always crushing them and keeping them locked away. But the day he stood on the edge of that roof, looking down at the face of the man who had cared for him through good and bad times, he knew. He couldn’t live without John. That was his motivation to jump.  
As he stared at the videos, his chest ached. He missed John and he could not deny his feelings towards the man. He knew that, however illogical caring for someone was, he just couldn’t stop caring for John. Couldn’t stop loving him.  
“Sherlock.”  
The man was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of John calling his name.  
“Sherlock. I’m so sorry.”  
He hunched towards the screen, squinting his eyes.  
“I wish I could have stopped you. Done something. You were all I had. I owe you so much.”  
Sherlock placed his hand over his mouth, containing his urge to talk back. It wouldn’t do any good since John would not hear him.  
“I went to see a man today. Said he could help me. I think I might take his offer.”  
 _Offer?_ Sherlock raised an eyebrow. Something wasn’t right. The way John was acting and the way he spoke those words made his stomach twist. However the John on the screen just sighed and walked back into the kitchen, leaving his teacup in the sink with the others that hadn’t been washed in the past few weeks. He disappeared from the screen only to reappear on the other, which was situated in his bedroom. Without changing his clothes, John simply folded himself into a fetal position on his bed and soon fell asleep.  
Sherlock closed the laptop and steepled his fingers under his nose. _What offer are you talking about, John?_ He pulled out his phone and quickly sent a message to Mycroft:  
‘Something is wrong. Please check in on him. –SH’  
He stood and began to pace, thinking of where John might have gone. He was at work all day and there weren’t many men at his job but it couldn’t have been a patient since John seemed to allude that the offer had something to do with Sherlock’s death. John wouldn’t ever share that kind of information with someone he barely knew. He usually took his lunch breaks in the hospital’s café so he could have been meeting with someone there. John had seeked this man out so he must have trusted him.  
His stomach wound tighter inside the consulting detective. He knew that John was in a fragile state and could easily be manipulated. Three weeks was ample time for anyone to imbed themselves into his flat-mate’s life. He quickly retrieved his phone from his jacket pocket.  
‘Any new information? –SH’  
He knew his brother would catch on to his message. Since Sherlock’s ‘death,’ Mycroft had been searching out and destroying the web Moriarty had built. They couldn’t take the chance that Moriarty had kept the assassins on their target for a longer amount of time to ensure that Sherlock had truly committed suicide. Sherlock knew immediately that the technician at the flat was for Mrs. Hudson and the new intern in the department was for Lestrade.  
It was John’s assassin that Sherlock could not pin-point. He would have known immediately if John had met someone new or someone around him was acting suspicious. John hadn’t been in a relationship for weeks before the fall and since his flat-mate’s death, he never invited anyone to the flat and his phone never rang except for work purposes.  
The phone buzzed in his hand.  
‘Nothing new. John is grieving, Sherlock. Of course there’s something wrong. You aren’t there with him. -MH’  
‘Come to the study. –SH’  
He needed to speak to his brother face to face. Mycroft also needed to hear what John had said. He pulled the laptop to himself again and opened it.  
His heart stopped. John was no longer in his bed. Sherlock searched the other cameras but there was no sign of him anywhere in the flat. He looked at them two, three times, over and over again. _John, where are you?_  
Sherlock became frantic. He rewound the video only to find that the film had been cut. One moment John was in his bed, the next he wasn’t. But how?  
His phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from an unidentified number.  
‘If you wish to see John again, I suggest you get to Barts in 20 minutes. –SM’  
Without a moment’s hesitation, Sherlock had snatched his coat and scarf before heading out the door.


	2. Finding John

The building was locked, of course, so Sherlock went around to the back and picked the lock to the old door he usually used when he wanted to get into the building late at night. The halls were dark except for the glow of the Exit lights. He closed the door and began to walk. His footsteps echoed through the hallway as his eyes darted back and forth.  
He suddenly caught sight of an open door. Probably a trap. But if they, well more likely just Moran, wanted to set a trap, then why did it feel like the message he had sent seemed to make a promise that he would see John again? His physical body relaxed however his stomach was still clenched.   
Of course. Moran didn’t want to hurt Sherlock. At least not until he had seen John one last time. He walked towards the open door slowly, leaning against the wall. He glanced around the corner through the windows of the doors. Nothing unusual.   
Yet.  
He walked through the doors spotting another door open farther down the hallway. Sherlock followed the trail, which led him downstairs to the mortuary double doors. He sighed to calm himself before pushing the door open slowly.  
“Well, we have a guest, John.”  
The man raised his eyebrow. Tall, blonde, Moriarty’s top assassin, has a large ego. He was leaning against the slab looking at Sherlock over his left shoulder. Sebastian smirked then turned over his other shoulder to look at John.  
John. Who was curled up against the far wall. Red stains all over his face that colored the fresh purple bruises on his cheeks. His right hand was lifelessly holding his side. He’d been stabbed. His pants were torn and there were black burn marks on his bad leg. Sherlock tried to keep calm. He was still breathing, even if it was slow. John had been stabbed about 15 minutes ago due to the large about of blood pooling around his limp legs.  
“He’s going to die, Sherlock. And there’s nothing you can do. It’s too bad really” Sebastian pulled out his bloodied knife and began to wipe it onto his sleeve, “He was such a good pet for you. It’s too bad you left him to _suffer_!”  
Sherlock glared at the man and practically growled, “What do you want, Moran?”  
The man flashed him a smiled, “I want to finish what Moriarty started. I will _burn_ the _heart_ out of you, Sherlock. You burned mine by killing Jim, now it’s my turn.”  
He pointed the knife at John’s non-moving form and snarled, “He really should have listened to everyone and stayed away from you. You, the Consulting Detective with no emotions. No feelings for anyone around you. He was your downfall,” he maniacally smiled back at the detective, “and you will be his.”  
Sherlock couldn’t stay still anymore. He stepped forward towards the assassin. He dodged the knife that was swung at him and threw his fist into the man’s stomach before chopping at his lower back with his flat hand. Moran groaned and stumbled towards the door, panting. Sherlock threw himself at John and quickly replaced John’s limp hand with his over his wound.  
“John! John wake up!” he softly patted the man’s cheek and his dark eyes slowly opened.  
“Sher…lock?” John breathed and slowly reached up to brush the detective’s cheek.  
An evil laugh echoed throughout the room and Sherlock quickly spun around, crouching in front of John protectively. Sebastian was leaning against the doorway chuckling at the scene in front of him, “Go ahead and try to help him, ‘Sher…lock.’” He mimicked John’s strained voice before throwing a mobile at Sherlock, who quickly caught it. “He doesn’t have long. Plus I love watching you dance,” he bowed slowly before pushing the door back. “See you soon, I hope.”  
After Moran was gone, Sherlock twirled back to John who had closed his eyes again.  
“No! John, stay with me!” He shook John enough to get the doctor to look at him. His chest was constricting looking at John, his John, who slowly grinned at him.  
“I’ve been waiting…for this moment, Sherlock. I knew once I died…you’d be the first person…to come for me,” he sighed and leaned his head against the wall.  
“John! You are not dead! You’re alive and I’m here. With you. I’m real. Don’t leave me now!”  
He quickly opened the phone and dialed Molly’s number. She quickly answered, “Hello? Who is this?”  
“Molly! I need you at Barts now! John’s been stabbed!” Sherlock almost screamed into the phone before whispering to John, “Stay with me, John.”  
There was silence on the other end, “MOLLY!”  
“I-I’m on my way!” _Click._


	3. Night in the Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is rushed to the hospital and Greg is there for Sherlock.

Greg walked into the hospital and found Sherlock standing, staring at the swinging doors. It took a moment to take in the man's figure. Just three weeks ago the Consulting Detective was dead. Thanks to a heads up from Mycroft, he knew he'd find the detective all in one piece in the hospital. "Sherlock?"  
No response. "Sherlock?" he put his hand on the detective's shoulders which caused him to wrench his eyes from the double doors.  
"Sherlock. What happened? I got a call from Mycroft saying John was in the hospital and you were alive. What's going on?"  
Sherlock turned back to the doors and sighed, "I was trying to find the assassins that Moriarty had placed on you, Mrs. Hudson…and John. If I didn't jump, he would have killed all of you. He took his own life to stop me from using him to call them off. I found two of the three assassins. I should have been more vigilant. Why couldn't I _see_ it? How could I have _missed_ him?" He rubbed his red eyes with frustration before staring back at the doors.  
"We all miss something, Sherlock. Even you say that you miss something when you deduce people." Greg tightened his grip on the detective's shoulder, "Come now. You should sit. John wouldn't want you standing here, anyway."  
Sherlock mumbled to himself as he was led to the waiting chairs. He still stared at the doors when he sat though he was uncharacteristically still, Greg noticed. He didn't even twitch when someone bumped into him with a wheelchair. The DI's mobile buzzed.  
'How is he? – MH'  
Greg quickly glanced up at Sherlock before responding.  
'Not sure about John but your brother is a mess. What happened to him over the past few weeks? – GL'  
He glanced at Sherlock once more. His fingers were steepled between his legs while his body slouched in the chair. His clothes were a mess, all wrinkled, as was his dark curly hair. His blood shot eyes never moved from those double doors.  
 _Buzz_  
'I think the affair of the heart finally won him over. – MH'  
Greg stared at the message. _Sherlock…is in love?_ A grin slowly spread across his face. _Of course he is._  
"If my brother is informing you that I have found happiness with John, then he is correct in his deductions."  
Lestrade jumped and nearly dropped his mobile. He looked up at Sherlock who was still staring at the doors. "I fear that I was wrong about love before I met John. I never knew someone so ordinary could be so extraordinary. John proved that to me over the years. You and Mrs. Hudson were good companions to me but John. John became a friend and I..." his hands moved to cover his mouth as a tear rolled down his cheek.  
Greg was frozen in shock. He never thought this man, Sherlock Holmes, would ever cry, let alone in public _or _fall in love. Once out of his trance, he reached over and held the man's shoulder once more. "Sherlock, we never know what is to become of us until it happens. We all make mistakes. Even you, though you hate to admit it. Don't give up on yourself or John. He wouldn't ever want you to change."__  
Sherlock finally turned to him and Greg noticed a small smile on the man's lips. He smiled in return before leaning back in his chair to text Mycroft.  
'You deduce well, Mycroft. – GL'  
Greg let out a sigh and stared at the entire bustle in the hospital. _John will be fine._ He had convinced himself of that. John will be out of the hospital within the week, back at Baker Street. He glanced at Sherlock. _Will he and Sherlock become a couple?_ Greg held back a giggle. _Oh that'd be a riot! Poor Mrs. Hudson!_  
His phone buzzed again.  
'Keep an eye on my brother for me. I've never known him to cry since he was a child. – MH'  
'Why don't you stop deducing and come comfort your brother, Mycroft? He's in pain, for God's sake! He needs his family to help him get through this. – GL'  
Mycroft was becoming infuriating. Wouldn't even show his face if his _brother_ were the one in the operation room.  
'No. What he needs are his friends. And John. – MH'  
Greg couldn't argue with that but he still texted back.  
'Even if he still has his friends, I think it would mean a lot to him if you were here, Mycroft. I don't care what he says. You should be here. – GL'  
He snapped his phone shut and stuffed it into his pocket. Just as infuriating as Sherlock.  
Another hour went by and still no word from anyone. Sherlock hadn't moved at all and Greg tried to convince him to go for a walk but the detective kept refusing. "I will not leave John again," he said so the DI dropped the subject. Mycroft hadn't answered his angered text however he did not show his face at the hospital. Typical Mycroft.  
Greg was about to doze off since it was getting late when he saw Sherlock jump onto his feet. The DI followed his line of vision and saw a crying Molly pass through the double doors. She quickly saw Sherlock and ran to him, embracing him.  
"Sherlock!" she buried her face in his jacket and mumbled, "I'm so sorry! He's…dead. John is dead!"


	4. New Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tries to rationalize John's death but he learns new information from Molly.

_No._ Sherlock stared at the double doors, waiting for John to come out in a wheel chair with his friendly smile to hug him and tell him the doctor said he'd be just fine. He could go home tomorrow tonight.  
But only more nurses and other patients came in and out of the doors. Molly was still sobbing into his shirt as his hands hovered over her shoulders. Greg put a hand on his shoulder, something Sherlock was starting to get irritated with. He pulled Molly off of him and passed her to Greg, "I have to go," he whispered as he walked towards the exit. There was a chorus of "Sherlock?" from both of his companions before he was out into the cold.  
 _John should have been fine._ He made his way out into the cold night and searched for a quiet alley close to the back door. Back to the wall, he tried to focus. He had to go back in time. Into his Mind Palace. Go back through the last few hours. _I must have missed something._ He closed his eyes but all he could see was John's crumpled, bruised, weak body on the floor of the morgue then images of his body in surgery, the long tone sounding from the machines of a dead heart. John was gone. There was nothing he could do now. No amount of thinking could help. Sherlock's heart had indeed been burned. Torn from his chest. A tear dropped down his cheek and he was brought back into reality.  
 _NO!_ He shook his head hard, letting out a yell to delete those fake images. _Think!_ He threw the thoughts from his mind and concentrated on the facts.  
John had been bleeding on the floor for about 15 minutes therefore he should have had ample amount of time after Moran had left. The wound had missed all of the vital organs and wasn't extremely deep. The burns were major but that wouldn't have killed him. Sherlock didn't observe any broken bones. Just the bruises, small cuts, burned leg, and stab wound in his side. John should be alive.  
Sherlock's eyes shot open. _Of course._ He ran back into the waiting room where Molly was buried into Greg's shoulder. He grabbed the woman who jumped from being handled so harshly. "I need to see John! Molly! Tell me where he is!"  
"I-I don't know! They wouldn't let me see him. The surgeon would have taken him down to the morgue but" she started tearing up again and Sherlock shook her, "Molly! You need to tell me where they took him!"  
She tried to think, Sherlock could tell from the way she scrunched up her teary face, "I heard they were creating a make-shift room for anyone who had died down by the morgue so maybe the surgeon took him there. I can't believe Doctor Moran couldn't save Joh-"  
"What did you say?!" Sherlock froze.  
She looked up at him with wide eyes, knowing he didn't like things repeated unless absolutely necessary, "The make-shift room by the mor-"  
"The last sentence!! Who did you say was the surgeon?!" Sherlock was yelling at Molly.  
Greg tried to intervene, "Sherlock, please don't-"  
"Sebastian Moran was John's assassin! He's the one who stabbed, bruised, and burned John! Where did he go, Molly! _TELL ME_!"  
For a moment she looked as if she was going to cry again but she sputtered out her words, "The s-substitute room. B468."  
 _I need to get to John._ "You still do count, Molly," Sherlock kissed her on the forehead quickly before running to the stairs and down to the basement.


End file.
